


Exulansis

by direneed



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Castration, Doctor/Patient Relationship, Domestic Bliss?, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Disorder, M/M, Marriage, Modern AU, Modern AU - Canon Divergence, Modern Westeros, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, abuse recovery, brother-sister sibling friendship, missing body parts, multi-chapter, sister-sister sibling friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direneed/pseuds/direneed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exulansis: the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.</p><p>Sansa and Theon had lived together for a couple years after escaping Ramsey. But no, they weren't dating. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exulansis

**Author's Note:**

> This WAS supposed to be apart of a prompt, but it's become an entirely new creature, and I just can't wait until January to show people.

“Theon, do you know why you’re here?” the therapist asked Theon. Theon shot her a look. He wished he didn’t have to do this, but Robb had insisted.

_“If you’re going to marry my sister you’re going to need to start working through your issues. You don’t even have to have it all taken care of before you guys get married, but you need to have a start. Sansa’s told me that you don’t talk about it. At all. You need to find someone to talk to about all this, otherwise I’ll be worried about Sansa.”_ Robb had told him over drinks the night he had asked for Sansa’s hand in marriage. He hated this idea. He had hated therapists ever since he had seen Hannibal. He felt himself shutter, that was a show he was never going to be able to watch again. Not since Ramsey. The therapist caught his shudder.

“Something wrong?” she asked him. Theon looked up, a little embarrassed.

“Nothing. I…I was just thinking about a show I used to watch. Before—you know…” Theon replied. The therapist looked intrigued.

“What show?” she asked him, and she looked poised to write it down in her patient notes.

“Hannibal.” Theon replied and the therapist laughed.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to eat you and I promise I don’t have a criminal record of any kind. I’ve seen it, even read the books and watched the movies too. Believe me when I tell you the books are more intense then that television show.” The therapist told him with a slight grin.

“Of course, considering the nature of your trauma, I wouldn’t recommend you read them.” Theon looked a little less nervous. “Now, back to my original question. Why have you come to see me?”

“Because I want to marry someone. And her brother told me that he won’t give us his blessing until I start working through my problems.” Theon told her. The therapist nodded. Of course she knew that much, it had been Robb who had helped him find her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to work through his problems, but he knew it was impossible for anyone to understand what he had gone through at the hands of Ramsey.

“Have you tried talking about this before with someone?” the therapist asked him, and Theon shook his head.

“Sansa—the girl I want to marry—was married to the person who was holding me captive for a while. She understands some of what happened, but not everything. She was more valuable to him then I was. He couldn’t afford to treat her the way he treated me.” Theon explained and the therapist jotted some notes down.

“And why did he kidnap you?” the therapist asked him. Theon took a deep breath.

“Because for a while the Starks, as in, former Prime Minister Stark’s family, had been my foster family since I was about eight-years-old. My father was—is—I’m honestly not sure if he’s dead or alive anymore, a crime boss. When his activities started coming to the surface and more intense, the government took me and my siblings away and my mother filed for divorce. He went to jail for a while, but got out about a year ago. I had been resentful towards the Starks. I guess no matter what my father did, he was still my father. I went back to him, to try and win his approval again, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He was more interested in my sister becoming the next boss after him.” Theon began and the therapist nodded for him to continue. “After Prime Minister Stark was murdered, he had wanted to take control of the government. I had a minimal role in that due to him not trusting me.”

“So, he was looking at terrorist acts?” the therapist asked and Theon only nodded, and she jotted some more notes down. “Continue.”

“He sent me to control some minor fishing villages on the cost—I’m originally from the Iron Islands. I think they call it the Pyke on the mainland. One of the men who he sent with me suggested I take control of the Northern Province by going to the Starks’ home in Winterfell. I was so obsessed when getting my father’s trust back that I listened to him.” Theon explained, biting his lip. “So we went to Winterfell and I seized control at the mayor’s office, and settled into the Starks’ home. I had tried to get Bran and Rickon Stark to listen to me, but they wouldn’t have any of it. They ran away and we went to go find them, except we couldn’t. Instead we killed—burned--- some orphaned farm boys that had been sent to work with one of the farmers, which is why I have this. I also have to go to a probation officer once a week.” Theon said, pulling up his pant leg to reveal a tracking anklet. “Shortly after that, my men turned on me and handed me over to the Boltons. Roose Bolton had been put in charge of the Northern Province by order of Prime Minister Lannister.”

“Where was your friend Robb in all of this?” the therapist asked him. “I’m sure he would have prevented you from doing all of this.”

“He had joined the military. His mother had wanted him to get into politics after he had finished university, but he felt he would do better in the military. He was off fighting with the Northern National Guard to help keep the peace.” Theon told her, and the therapist wrote more. “I was tortured by Roose’s son Ramsey about my activities in Winterfell. I think that was part of the reason why I haven’t been sent to jail.” Theon chuckled ruefully. “He castrated me, and I lost at least four fingers and one toe. I remember seeing a degree on the wall in Ramsey’s office. He had studied psychology for undergraduate school as well as was working on a masters’ during the time of my captivity. That was probably why he was so good at what he did. He tore me down to nothing, he called me Reek and treated me like one of his dogs. He had a kennel built outside for his dogs, and I slept in one of the cages, as well as…” Theon trailed off. “As well as his lover. That’s something I haven’t even told Sansa. He raped me. If I had been allowed to take a shower, I probably would have scrubbed myself raw to get the feeling of him off my skin.” The therapist continued writing some notes. “The worst part is, when I was Reek, I didn’t even care. I just did whatever it took to please him, I did whatever I could to not get hit again. He made me call him ‘Master.’ There were even times when I thought I genuinely loved him.” Theon took a breath. “I can still feel Reek in my head sometimes.” The therapist continued writing some more and then looked up at him.

“How so?” she said encouragingly.

“Well, Reek is really submissive, but when it comes to certain people, like Sansa or Ramsey, I just get really…” He paused for a moment to try to find the right word. “Dog-like is the way Sansa describes it. She saw me during the worst of the abuse, but she says it’s endearing when I’m not cowering or scared. When I actually am wanting to love her and it’s not caused by abuse. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still me. It’s just whenever the nightmares come, is when Reek finds his way back. Sansa reminds me who I am and I fall back asleep. By morning I’m myself again.” The therapist nodded.

“Well, it seems to me Theon that you have developed an identity disorder to a certain degree which goes hand-in-hand with a case of PTSD. The latter is fairly normal considering the experiences that you’ve had. All things considered, you seem to handle it well. The thing I want to talk about which is the thing I’m sure your friend Robb is concerned about is your castration.” The therapist explained and shifted through her folder of notes, most likely going for Theon’s medical file. “Your medical file says that he took everything. You are aware what that entails for your sex life correct?” she asked and Theon nodded.

“Of course I know. It’s just that we’ve been through so much. There’s no way that we are really going to find happiness with anyone else. I still want to get married, despite my—lack of parts.” Theon said uneasily. “There are other options too…we can adopt. Sperm banks…” Theon said, and it sounded like he was more trying to convince himself of everything rather than the therapist.

“You are both still pretty young. I’m more concerned about Sansa then I am with you.” The therapist told him. She closed the file and looked at the clock. “It looks like we’re about out of time. I want you to come back and see me, but bring Sansa with you to the next appointment. If I was Robb, I would want to make absolutely sure that you both know what you’re getting into.” She got up and shook Theon’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure Theon. Please go ahead and make an appointment with my receptionist before you leave, or make sure to coordinate your schedule with Sansa before you do.”

“Thank you Dr. Bloom.”


	2. We're Not Like Other People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Sansa and Theon's daily life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to do it with appointment-by-appointment. And with the way this story is going, I would love it if someone would beta for me.

_“…we're not like other people. We love each other in our own way, and we can have the life together that we want. You won't be the perfect husband? I can promise you I harbored no intention of being the perfect wife. I'll not be fixing your lamb all day, while you come home from the office, will I? I'll work. You'll work. And we'll have each other's company. We'll have each other's minds. Sounds like a better marriage than most. Because I care for you. And you care for me. And we understand one another more than anyone else ever has.”_

_-_ Joan Clarke, _The Imitation Game_

Theon made small talk with the receptionist as he paid for his visit and left. He told her he would call within the next day or so to make his next appointment, and he was out the door. He turned on his phone while he walked out to his truck and dialed Sansa.

 _“Hello?”_ she answered as he opened the door to his truck.

“Hello. I just finished with the appointment.” He told her as he got himself settled for the drive home. Home was half of a duplex near the Stark’s new home, which her mother and Robb had insisted on after everything that had happened. They weren’t fond of the idea of him being there, but as long as he helped to pay rent and nothing particularly awful happened, they didn’t seem to mind as long as Sansa was safe. “Hang on, about to start driving, need to put you on speaker.” He said and put the phone on speaker, placing it in the passenger seat next to him.

 _“How was it?”_ Sansa asked as he began to drive out of the parking lot. She had known that he was going into therapy, but hadn’t learned of his intentions yet. Something which he was going to need to tell her before getting her to come to the next appointment with him. A conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. They weren’t necessarily dating per se, but after what had happened during her marriage to Ramsey and Ramsey’s torture of him, it was safe to say that they were as close as boyfriend and girlfriend, just minus the sexual intimacy.

“It was…good.” Theon told her, not really sure what to say to her without giving away his intentions. That was a conversation for when he got home. “How was work?” he asked her.

 _“It was interesting. I was in a second grade class today. They were well behaved mostly.”_ She replied. Sansa was finishing coursework for a degree in elementary education. The Starks had always been a traditional, upper-crust political family, so of course a college education for all their children was a must. The only problem for Sansa was that she had slow down her education over the past couple years. It started with her engagement to Prime Minister Lannister’s oldest grandson, Joffrey. She had slowed down on the classes some, taking a few over the course of a year. When the engagement was broken off and she was then married to Joffrey’s uncle Tyrion, he of course being a strong supporter of education, was incredibly supportive of her taking classes and she was able to take a full course load each semester during her time with him. However, that marriage was short lived when Tyrion had been accused of attempting to poison Joffrey, and they divorced on forced, but amicable terms.

She laid low for a while at home, which had been located to the country’s capital of King’s Landing after the assassination of her father and the appointment of the Bolton’s to govern the Northern Province, not going out into public very often because of the reporters who badgered her family at every turn (the public had believed that Tyrion’s attempted poisoning of Joffrey had been due to his previous mistreatment of Sansa). Joffrey was a well-publicized bastard throughout Westeros, and his treatment of her during their engagement had been well known throughout the country, despite his family’s attempts to cover it up. She remained at home as often as she could, until her marriage to Ramsey.

Despite the fact that he was working on his own graduate degree at the time of their marriage, Ramsey refused to let Sansa go very far away from their home in Winterfell, thus putting her about two years behind the classmates she had started out with her first year of college. He was like a child who didn’t want to share his toys. Sansa, being the traditionally-raised, old-fashioned girl that she was, obeyed her husband, despite hating the idea. He remembered seeing her late at night sometimes with Ramsey’s textbooks, reading to keep herself in practice for when she would be able to get back into school again. Once they had left Winterfell and made it back to her family in King’s Landing, she enrolled in school again after the dust had settled from her divorce. She was taking classes as well as substituting within the school district in the city, and it was clear that teaching was her calling.

“Good.” He said to her as he drove. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in. You home?”

 _“Yes. I’m getting some food ready for dinner. I got a little creative.”_ Sansa said and Theon smiled. Sansa tried to be as independent as possible, despite her meager substitute teaching pay, and his contracting work, so a lot of the time, between her student loan checks, her working checks, and his construction jobs, they did their best to work with whatever food they had. If they had no food at all, that was when she would go talk to her mother or Robb. Usually, they survived well enough.

“Alright. See you at home then.” He told her.

 _“Bye.”_ She replied and hung up the phone. He drove for a minute or two longer and drove up to the duplex, greeted by the barking of Lady. That was another thing too, the Lannister’s and Ramsey wouldn’t let Sansa have Lady with her at all. Lady had been stuck at home with her mother while she had been shipped from prospective husband, to husband, to husband (despite being, out of all of her brothers’ and sister’s dogs, the most well behaved). So when they did leave Winterfell and came back, she was overjoyed at the prospect of having Lady with her again. He got out of the truck and walked up the driveway into their home.

“I’m home.” He said as he opened the door, and was first greeted by the scampering feet of Sansa’s wolf-dog. He absently stroked Lady’s head and walked into the small kitchen where he saw her. She was dressed in a pair of nice black slacks and a light green button up shirt, which had clearly been tucked in for a good part of the day. A pair of dark green toms sat on the floor in front of the sliding glass door, meant for easy access later for when she would go outside to a small picnic table and study after she had changed into comfortable clothes. She looked up from stirring one of the pots in front of her and smiled.

“Hey.” She told him. “I went with pasta and tomato sauce. We had some chicken leftover from a few nights ago that I didn’t use so I went with that for the meat.” She explained to him and he hugged her from behind and watched her cook.

“You could serve me dirt and I’d be okay with it. I’m exhausted.” Theon told her as he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Before the appointment, I had a job today.” He told her. She removed his hands from around her waist and turned to face him, the prim and proper girl he grew up with showing herself.

“Theon Greyjoy, you take a shower before you come anywhere near me. Or this food.” She warned him, half playful, half serious. He pouted playfully and took off his boots. “And put those outside. They look disgusting.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chimed and slid the door open and placed his boots just outside the door. For a girl who grew up with maids and butlers, and wasn’t usually expected to do chores, she had taken to keeping her own house like she had been made to do it her entire life. Ned Stark had insisted that his children (that also included Theon) help the hired help with housework, not wanting them to become like their spoiled counterparts the Lannister children. Despite this insistence however, he was still fairly lenient when it came to the idea.

He headed to his room, which was opposite the door of her’s. They definitely weren’t dating, but they were…something. He was affectionate to her when it came to the small things. It had been about a year and a half since Ramsey castrated him, but he still had enough experience with women that he knew what to do to make them happy. There was also enough of Reek left in him that he had a loyal affection for Sansa. With the way that their duplex was laid out, there was a half-hallway (for lack of a better term), which had their doors which faced each other, and then a bathroom on the opposite side of the little square. He found some comfortable clothes and entered the bathroom, a towel over his shoulder.

If he had been living alone, he probably would have avoided showering every chance he got, only doing it when he (or other people) couldn’t stand the smell of him. He had regained enough of his former self back that he felt a burning sense of shame every time he had to take a shower or get undressed. Sansa probably had an inkling, but she didn’t say anything. As he got into the shower, he avoided looking down as much as he could as he cleaned himself. As he reached down to where his penis had once been the humiliation stung him as hard as it always did. After that, he hurried and finished in the shower. He got out and dressed, in a pair of long pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt before he left the bathroom. At least if he and Sansa got married he hopefully wouldn’t have to worry about her seeing him naked. Who was he kidding? It was bound to happen eventually. They were living together after all.

He came back into the living room and saw (and smelled) from a distance their dinner, which Sansa had set out while he had been in the shower.

“Mmmm.” He said as he sat down, and Sansa put Lady outside while they ate, knowing full well that the dog would stand at the door and stare as they ate, and then be eventually let back inside and fed some of their dinner anyway. Sansa was just a firm believer in proper meal times. When Sansa sat back down they dug into the meal. “Delicious.” He said to her. She only smiled playfully back, an air of superiority within her smile.

“Let’s see what you cook tomorrow.” She told him and he stopped short, fork in his mouth. Despite his grumbling protests, Sansa had insisted on them sharing everything as equally as they could manage, and that included meal preparation. Theon was still a terrible cook, and usually whenever Sansa had to sub, before she left in the morning, she would leave instructions for dinner. Whenever she thought he was getting the hang of cooking, she would let him have free reign, only for him to completely screw up a dinner and she would start leaving him instructions again. “You’re already thirty-one Theon! It’s about time you learned how to cook.” She declared and he looked down at his plate after he swallowed the forkful of food in his mouth. Very rarely did people remind him of his age, but when they did, especially after Ramsey he felt the sudden weight of old age crush him and he felt more in his seventies then his thirties, in stark contrast with Sansa.

At twenty-four, and despite the problems that had plagued her throughout her time as a teenager and young adult, Sansa was still gorgeous, and hardly looked like she could be twenty, whereas Theon had streaks of white coloring his otherwise dirty blonde hair courtesy of the stress of the past couple of years. Theon tried to not let his thoughts show as he responded.

“Leaving me instructions as usual?” he asked her. She smirked lightly.

“I was thinking about letting you have a go. See what you come up with.” Sansa said with a grin. Theon rolled his eyes. “But of course, Lady won’t be partaking.” She said sweetly and looked at her dog with affection. Theon smirked.

“You spoil that dog far too much.” Theon told her. She pouted at him.

“What else should I do? I was away from her for three years! I have a lot of spoiling I have to make up for.” She said with a chuckle. He smiled. They ate in amiable silence for a few more moments before she spoke again. “So, what exactly did you guys talk about at your appointment today?” Sansa asked him. He picked at his pasta for another moment, attempting to figure out the right words. How exactly do you casually bring up the idea of marrying? Especially when you were a eunuch?

“I have…something I want to do soon. Robb knows about it, and suggested that I work it out in therapy first.” Theon explained to her. Sansa shot him a questioning look.

“And that is?” she asked him.

“I want to marry you.”


	3. Pity and Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon tells Sansa his intentions, and they both contemplate the events of the past couple years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I feel bad for Reek. (Not Theon, mostly Reek, I consider them two separate characters). I also am thinking about maybe writing more of a beginning of this so I have a more constructed plot (probably do an episode-by-episode modernized version, it'll help me work out the modern world building better). I'm finishing an online class right now, but I still have LOADS of time until this officially gets unveiled, thank goodness. 
> 
> (Written 7/16/15).

_“It was pity that stayed his hand! Pity and mercy.”_  
-Gandalf; _The Lord of the Rings_

  
\--

  
“Marry you?” Sansa asked, dropping her fork down on her plate. Even Lady, who by some crazy telepathic connection must have sensed her mistress’ shock, came back over to the door and stared at Theon along with her. Theon looked down immediately. To say that, that had required courage that he hadn’t had since he took control of Winterfell four years ago. At her shock he felt Reek come to the surface, ever so slightly.

 _“Why would such a beautiful girl even want us? We can’t please her the way a man should be able to please his wife, no matter how much experience we had before. We’re better off just staying with her and protecting her until she finds a man worthy of her. A man who’s not us. Robb was right. You need her more then she needs you.”_ Reek said to him. He looked up at her shyly. She still looked floored, but the initial shock had gone away. She smiled uneasily.

“Was that what you and Robb went out to talk about a few weeks ago?” she asked him. He nodded dumbly. She took a sip of her water, and looked thoughtful. “I’ll think about it.” Sansa said softly.

“That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about too.” Theon told her. “The shrink, she wants you to come with me to my next appointment. I didn’t tell her that I hadn’t asked you yet.” He told her. He pushed some of the remaining pasta and bits of chicken around on his plate with his fork. “You don’t have to come with me…” he mumbled. Sansa kept her uneasy smile, and he knew that he had crossed some lines that they had never dared to think about, let alone cross, since they moved in together. They both knew it would mean some tabloids. She was the daughter of a former prime minister, and he was the son of a terrorist who had attempted to take over the government twice. They had both been captive by the government of the Northern Province, and they had both attended and been witnesses at Ramsey Bolton’s highly publicized trial, when he was charged with attempted murder and kidnapping (his), as well as multiple counts of domestic violence towards Sansa during their short marriage. They lived quiet lives once things had settled. She had enrolled back in university, and his parole officer had been able to get him a job at a construction firm. To get married would be like kicking up all the dust all over again, not to mention, it would lead to some not so flattering words from Ramsey, who was currently residing in King’s Landing Hospital for the Criminally Insane. And her mother…!! Ms. Stark was still somewhat prominent in the media, spending most of her time volunteering and championing her causes, like most Prime Minister’s wives, but they both knew that the reporters would begin to hound the Stark estate again.

“Like I said, I’ll think about it.” Sansa repeated as she took her plate, and then grabbed his too. “I’ll wash up the stuff from dinner. Go ahead and do whatever.” She mumbled as she turned her back to him. Sighing, Theon got up from the table. He looked at Lady through the door, who gave him apologetic look. Another interesting thing that happened during Theon’s captivity with Ramsey was that he had developed an ability to just know canines, no matter if they were dog or wolf (mostly because that was how Ramsey treated him).

“Don’t look at me like that.” Theon said to the wolf-dog. Lady only turned away, wandering back out into the yard, and Theon went to his room and closed the door.

\--

After a few hours of awkward silence and avoidance, the pair went to bed. Or tried to. Theon laid in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Nights were always the worst. He never wanted to go to sleep, worried about the dreams that would come when he did, so he usually just stayed awake until he could barely keep his eyes open. He probably should have mentioned that to the shrink too, if he did go back to her. There was still a chance he might. Marriage or not, he knew Robb was right and he knew he would have to work out his problems somehow. He felt himself drift off after that thought, and he fell into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

\--

He woke up a few hours later. He had been having the same dream again, but he was glad it wasn’t the dream where he woke up screaming. Yara had gotten to him before Ramsey had castrated him, and he in turn was able to get to Sansa before she married Ramsey. They ran away together and got married, and were living happily, for a few months, but by the end of the dream, everything still happened and things were just as bad as they were before. He may not have been screaming, but he woke up miserable. Lately it had been that dream, or he truly had killed Bran and Rickon, which was usually the one where he would wake up calling out their names and endless apologies. He flipped over his phone where it lay on the floor next to his bed. 3 AM. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than four hours.

He kicked off his blanket and went into the kitchen. There wasn’t much alcohol, Sansa hated it, but he kept some alcohol when the insomnia became too much or when he needed the much needed haze of intoxication (and sometimes even the hangover that followed, it being much easier to deal with the physical pain of a hangover then his feelings). Alcohol used to actually urge him on when he would be with women, mostly because of how often he had used it in association with sex before. But now it just made him tired, and, true to its name, gave him “liquid courage.” He found a beer in the refrigerator and settled himself on the couch, looking out at the dark street in front of their small home as he opened the bottle.

“Dreams again?” a voice asked, and Theon turned with a start. There was Sansa, dressed in baggy sweats with a wolf on one thigh above the pocket reading ‘Winterfell Wolves’ and a grey tank top. Theon only grunted in response. She came over and sat beside him on the couch, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep either…” she replied. She had dreams too, but less frequently then he did, which of course led to some mixed feelings of jealousy and anger on his part. She was so much stronger than he was, over the course of the years since her father’s death she had lost so much more, and yet here she was, surviving. They never really discussed their personal battles, but they both instinctively knew when the other was fighting. They were both just there. He continued staring forward.

“How do you do it?” he asked her after they sat in silence for a few minutes. Sansa only shrugged, and he realized why she dealt with it all so much better than him. She knew that none of what happened to her was her fault. Meanwhile, all the things that had happened to him had been the effect to the cause of his own stupidity. He dug himself into this hole, now he had to get himself out of it. Sansa had forgiven him, mostly because they had escaped the North together, and she had seen the pain on his face when Ramsey had made him watch as he raped her, but he knew Ms. Stark, Robb, and especially Bran and Rickon hadn’t forgiven him.

“I know it’s what my father would want. I know that after all the stuff we did together, that he would want you to be strong too. I know he’d be disappointed and angry about what you did, but after you saved me, I know he would forgive you too. Just like Robb and my mother will eventually too.” Sansa replied softly. Theon chuckled ruefully. “You were as much a part of the family as Jon was, no matter how much my mother hated to admit it. You yourself even said that my father was more of a father to you then your father had been.” Sansa explained.

“Which is why what I did is a thousand times worse. I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life for what I did to your family.” Theon told her, and he remembered what the judge had said after his own trial. _‘You’re going to suffer enough for the rest of your life. That’s the only thing that saved you from prison. You betrayed your family, even if they aren’t related to you by blood, and you’ll bare the physical and mental scars of that for the rest of your life. I know that. The jury knew that. And the Starks, no matter how much Ms. Stark is calling for a life sentence, knows that. Pity and mercy are what kept you from prison.’_

Sansa was silent at this, and instead got up, holding out a hand.

“C’mon.” she told him, and Theon looked up at her, a curious look on his face. “C’mon!” she said again and he finished off his beer and took her hand, leaving the empty bottle on the coffee table. She led him to her room. She laid down on the bed and gestured for him to do the same. He did so cautiously, but once he was under the blanket, she moved so she could hold him. He smiled and turned to face her. They had done this one other time before, on the way south after leaving Winterfell. While it wasn’t sexual, it helped relax him then. She placed a kiss on his cheek and curled into him, and he put his arms around her. She knew his doubts, and this was her response.

He was a man, even if he didn’t have the parts to prove it. And no matter what, she knew she was safe with him. While there was pity in the way she looked at him, and the way she felt sorry for him, there was also, mercifully enough, forgiveness in her embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll slip in some cross-over Hannibal references here and there just for grins (ex: King's Landing Hospital for the Criminally Insane). Also, for the Lord of the Rings quote at the beginning of the chapter, I'm not sure which movie (or book, I think it's in both), that line comes from, so I just cited it as from Lord of the Rings.


	4. Facebook Official?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...well, they were basically dating anyway.

The two woke up to the sound of Sansa’s phone ringing. Not even attempting to move Theon’s hands from around her waist, Sansa reached over to the nightstand and answered it without looking.

“Hello?” she said into the phone, and attempted to stifle a yawn. “Oh hello, yes. The second grade class again? Sure. Thanks for calling.” She said and hung up, and rolled out of Theon’s grasp. Theon only groaned. Sansa chuckled as she sat up in bed and stretched her arms and yawned. Theon caught himself staring at her as he saw her begin to pick out her clothes. She turned around and looked at him. “What?” she asked him as she tied her hair into a ponytail and adjusted the thin headband that had slipped down her long hair so that she could begin her morning routine of washing her face. Theon got up and stretched as well. He tried hard to keep his thoughts to himself, and he cringed when he remembered what Ramsey had wondered aloud about a ‘phantom cock.’ Theon shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. He may have been somewhat of a man whore before everything that happened with Ramsey, but he was a lot more ‘vanilla’ then people thought he was. Sex after all that had happened would just be too unnatural. He was a believer in straight forward, missionary style sex and blow jobs. Maybe anal if he was drunk enough. And what woman in their right mind would find him attractive after all that?

 _‘Sansa might…’_ he thought to himself, but of course Reek had to come along and ruin it for him.

 _‘Don’t flatter yourself.’_ Came the reply. He got out of bed and ruffled Sansa hair on his way out of the bedroom, with the girl’s frustrated moan following him as he left the room to get ready for his job for the day.

“Get breakfast ready while I’m getting ready!” Sansa called through her bedroom door that Theon had shut on his way out of the bedroom.

“Looks like its toast this morning!” Theon called back as he went into his own room to change, and grinned to hear her groan of disgust. About thirty minutes later, Theon was dressed in his work clothes and barefoot in the kitchen, surveying their stores for something adequate for Lady Sansa. Eventually, he settled on scrambled eggs. It was a simple enough thing to make, and he had learned how to make it before leaving the Pyke with Ned Stark, Yara had shown him. As he began getting breakfast ready, he thought of his sister. He still had her number. He had it memorized since they were young. His mother had him memorize the cell phone numbers for her, his father, Yara, and his older brothers in case of an emergency despite the fact that the school had already had contact numbers. Yara hadn’t been the type to change her number, so there was a chance…

After he got their breakfast ready, and set out, Theon went to his room and unplugged his phone from his charger. He paged through the numbers. There weren’t a lot in his new phone, which Sansa had insisted on him getting one after they escaped from Ramsey, most of them with the exception of Sansa’s he probably would never have a need to call. At the end of his list, Yara’s name appeared and he went to text her. He wondered how his text would be received. She had tried to get him away from Ramsey, but by that point he had been far too gone to recognize who it was who was trying to save him. He hadn’t talked to her much, not even a word during Ramsey’s trial despite the fact that it was highly publicized all over Westeros. But still, it was him and Yara who always had the closest relationship out of all the Greyjoys.

 _‘Hey. I know it’s been ages, but I need to talk. Call me later?’_ the text said, and tentatively, he hit send. As soon as he hit send, he went back out from his room where Sansa was waiting. She wrinkled her nose at the breakfast.

“What are you, twelve?” she asked as she sat down in her usual place across from him as he squirted some ketchup on top of his eggs. He grinned broadly and nodded as he dug into his breakfast. She sighed and went into their small kitchen, pulling a blueberry bagel from the bag of bagels that sat on the counter next to the fridge. She pulled a container of cream cheese from the fridge along with a butter knife and sat back down. He gave her a mock-pout.

“Is my food not good enough?” he teased. She nodded and he put a hand over his heart. “That hurts, m’lady Sansa. That hurts me right here.”

“Whatever. You know just as well as I do that you’ll be over it by lunch time.” Sansa told him bluntly and he grinned back at her. Despite their playful banter, they both knew what needed to be talked about. If they weren’t a couple, then why on the nightmare nights did one or the other end up in the other’s bed? Theon thought back to when he and Jon Snow had discussed their relationship, the day after Jon had been out drinking with him and had finally gotten laid. Jon had called him insecure, that the thing that was mostly stopping him from genuinely approaching Sansa as a man was because physically the parts that made him a man weren’t there.

 _‘If you really want to be with her, you have to let go of your hang ups and just say that you want to be her boyfriend.’_ Jon had told him over drinks at their place the night after he had met Ygritte. Sansa had a late night at the library, giving them the perfect chance to talk privately at home. _‘Having a penis doesn’t make me more of a man then you, Greyjoy. More importantly, what happened to you, technically, wasn’t your fault. Sure, after all the shit you did both Robb and I wanted to have a couple of gos at you, but what Ramsey did was too far.’_ Theon really appreciated Jon for his honesty, and that more importantly he was so willing to be up front with him after everything that had happened. He figured part of it had to do with the fact that Jon was only half-related to the Starks, and while yes he was still part of their family, he still had a little bit more room to take a step back and have more of an objective look on things.

“About what I said yesterday. Would you be more comfortable if—I mean, it’s not like it matters or anything but…” Theon stuttered over his words, attempting to choose them carefully. After being Ramsey’s right hand man for a year, he always would stutter over his words and tip toe around what he thought other people may feel, a habit that he had been meaning to break, but still. This was Sansa. It’s not like they hadn’t been basically dating already. She looked at him as though she knew what he was going to say.

“Just say it Theon, I don’t have all morning.” She told him as she finished her scrambled eggs, and stuffed part of her blueberry bagel in her mouth, chewing on a bite of bagel. She went to where her toms lay and slipped them on, grabbing her messenger bag seconds after. “And you don’t either.” She added as she swallowed her bite of bagel.

“Will you be my girlfriend? I know marriage is pushing it too far too soon, but really…” Theon trailed off, and Sansa paused, the bagel almost dropping comically from her mouth. She saved it just in time as she headed towards the front door. “We have separate rooms, but we both eventually end up in the same room by the end of the night anyway. We cuddle, we do all the relationship things. We may as well…you know.” He said as he followed her to the front door. They paused at the door, Sansa having her back to him, and he waited in a moment of tense silence. She turned to face him, an amused look on her face.

“Theon Greyjoy, have you even actually dated anyone for more than a week? Besides the times you and Robb had gotten drunk and declared your undying love for each other…” Sansa asked him. Theon paused, genuinely thinking about it. Ever since he had been in high school, he had never really dated anyone for a period of longer than a week. He shook his head, leaving Sansa to grow a very uncharacteristic smirk on her face. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

“Yes.”


	5. Wounded Krakken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Theon's relationship begins.

_You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful, and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later, they're as dull as a brick. Then there's other people and you meet them and you think, "Not bad, they're okay." And then you get to know them and... and they're face just sort of... becomes them, like their personality is written all over it. And they just... they turn into something so beautiful._

_-Amy Pond, Doctor Who_

\--

_Theon: 10 / Sansa: 2_

_Theon followed the young Stark into the nursery where his younger sister was. He had only been in Winterfell for a few weeks, and the boy Stark was already enamored by his presence. He showed him to the nursery because he hadn’t truly met the girl Stark yet._

_“Mum and Dad say that I’m supposed to protect her since she’s my little sister and that’s what big brothers do.” Robb explained to Theon. Theon nodded, though his only sister was bigger than he was. “Though, I’m a little nervous ‘bout doing it…I don’t think I’m big enough to be able to protect her much.” Robb confided, peeking into the crib and smiling shyly at the girl. She was asleep._

_“It’s okay, she’s not big enough to need people to protect her yet.” Theon replied. “But I’ll help you keep an eye on her when she does get bigger…”_

\--

**Present Day**

Theon parked in the driveway of their apartment beside Sansa’s bright blue PT Cruiser, staring at the door. So…he was dating her. Officially dating her. He had never officially dated anyone before, and the prospect of dating someone now, when he was so old, frightened him. All of his knowledge of girls from before didn’t amount to too much at this point, especially after all that had happened to him physically. When Yara had texted him back, surprisingly, he had told her the news, and she was happy for him, and proud of him she had also said. They had exchanged some messages, and the older woman had flatly told him not to be a stranger and that she missed her little brother. He was grateful. After he had sat outside for a few minutes, he finally took a breath and went inside, still nervous despite himself.

They hadn’t really talked all day, but of course that was nothing new. Sansa usually only would glance at her phone during lunch times, otherwise it remained off in her bag while she was at work. She had made sure that he had the phone number of all the schools in the district she subbed in, on the off chance that an emergency did occur and he needed her. That of course never happened.

As he entered the house he heard the clatter of her making dinner, as well as her soft humming. He felt his insides melt at the feelings the scene gave him. Home. The Starks treated him well while he was in foster care, but he had never truly had a home until he and Sansa decided to live together. Despite smelling of dirt and sweat, he went behind her in the kitchen and held her the way he usually did, only this time, the embrace wasn’t as casual as it usually was when he came home. No, this embrace was gruff, with needs that he hadn’t felt comfortable expressing before in their former arrangement.

“’m home.” He mumbled, his face buried in her hair. It seemed like she was about ready to be her usual prim and proper self, but instead she leaned back into his embrace. Though, of course, he would go change once he had properly had a chance to greet her.

“Welcome home.” She replied as she twisted around and gave him a light kiss on the lips, while still in his embrace. He moved his hands to around her waist. She smiled shyly up at him. “It feels so right, kissing you like that. Before…it never felt so right.” She said bluntly. He kissed her back and when he pulled away he moved his hands away and sat at their small table to take off his boots and put them in their usual place by the back door.

It was true. He had seen the way Ramsey would kiss her. The face she would try to hide when he would plant kisses on her cheek in public, and the couple of times when he had seen him corner her in the halls of the old Stark mansion, to cop a feel and have his way with her. He knew that she and Tyrion hadn’t done anything, as for Joffrey he knew that he gave her bruises more than kisses. It was also true that things didn’t feel as tense in their small home as they did before, when they were still in denial, but there would be some rising tension again, when Sansa felt the sexual urges. He knew that would be a coming rocky point, especially since he wasn’t even completely comfortable being naked.  
Without thinking, Theon took his boots off down to his bare feet, and when he realized what he had done, he caught himself staring down at them. He hardly ever showed an excess amount of skin beyond what could be easily hidden with a t-shirt and jeans. The only thing he absolutely needed to show was his fingers, and Sansa had gotten used to that fairly quick. On both his hands, his middle finger was gone. Ramsey had made a joke out of that one. _‘I don’t want my servants making inappropriate gestures behind my back.’_ He had explained as he cut off the fingers. After the middle fingers, he had lost the thumb on his right hand, and the pinky on his left. Theon had been right handed, but after his captivity, he had lost the ability to use his right hand because of his lost thumb. He had been going to a physical therapist since their escape when he could afford it, and still hadn’t quite mastered the ability to write left handed (his handwriting looked like that of a five-year-old when he wrote left handed, but compared to where he had been two years ago when the therapy had just begun, it was at least legible). However, aside from writing, Ramsey had made sure that Theon could perform other tasks left handed to make him not totally useless.

The guys at the firm were pretty relaxed about it. In his line of work, while it wasn’t quite common, most construction workers didn’t really blink an eye if they saw a coworker with missing fingers. They just called you a dumb ass and were done with it. It didn’t take Theon very long to be comfortable with his hands again. His feet were another story. He had lost his big toe early on in his captivity with Ramsey, and had a limp because of it, as well as struggled to keep balance on some occasions. The first several months of working in construction had been difficult to say the least, but there were some tricks that the physical therapist had recommended that helped him to at least walk slightly more normal while he was at work. He only really let the limp show while he was at home.

However, Sansa had either never seen or not really paid attention to Theon’s feet in the years they had lived together. Including the toe, Theon also had a series of incredibly painful looking scars that in some cases had an identical one to match on the bottom of his foot from where the knife, screw, or whatever Ramsey felt like using on him had gone in one side and out the other. He had never really shown Sansa, and in the days when they discussed his injuries in court were gratefully the days that the Starks’ attorney allowed her to not come, so she had never seen the complete extent of his scars before. Before today, it would have been something she wouldn’t have paid a lot of mind too, but now…

  
At Theon’s quiet, Sansa looked over at him and saw what he was staring at, and she saw the toe, or at least, the lack of one. He had told her about it, but she had never actually seen. They stood in quiet for a moment and Theon got up to go find a clean pair of socks, but Sansa stopped him.

“Don’t.” she said to him as she took his hand, lightly rubbing the place where his thumb had been. She kissed him lightly again. “But you do stink though, go take a shower.” She ordered.

“You’re a lot freer with your kisses then I thought you would be m’lady.” Theon teased, using his familiar term of endearment. She smiled at him and pushed him gently towards the bathroom.

“Because I never felt the need to give them out freely, but you’re my wounded Krakken. You need my kisses if you’ll become whole again.” Sansa told him as he walked towards the bathroom.


	6. Tomato Soup and Internal Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa takes stock of her new relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third person limited POV with Sansa.
> 
> I know it's been slow going, but it'll start going faster soon (I hope). But let's be real, Sansa and Theon go through a lot because of Ramsey (both in the canon and my modern AU equivalent), and in Sansa's case Joffrey and Tyrion before that. So, it's obviously going to be slow going for them at first. I do have an ending in mind, as well as Ramsey is going to make an appearance at some point as well.

Once Theon had gotten out of the shower, Sansa took a moment to really get a look at her new boyfriend. He was dressed in a pair of sweats with a t-shirt, his arms were scarred up and his feet were bare, revealing the toe that was missing on one of his feet. Without realizing it, she felt her gaze go down to his foot, and looked up again when he nervously hid it behind his one leg, his face flushed shyly. She took his hand and led him into the kitchen.

“Help me with dinner?” she asked him. He nodded and looked at what she was doing stupidly. “Grab whatever cheese you want from the fridge. We’re having grilled cheese tonight.” She told him. He nodded and grabbed a package of pepper jack cheese and cheddar from the refrigerator, knowing what her favorite kind was as well. “I told Robb today.” She said to Theon as she put a light spread of butter on one side of a slice of bread. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Theon, who looked nervous. “He’s upset.”

“I’ll bet…” Theon mumbled as he got out some mayonnaise. Sansa looked at Theon and sighed.

“It’ll be okay.” Sansa told him, and put a hand on his back. He let her keep it there for a moment before he moved away.

“What are we having to go with it?” Theon asked her.

“Tomato soup.” Sansa replied and gestured towards the cupboard. “The cans are in there. I think one should be enough for us both.” She told him and he got the cans out of the cupboard. He read the directions as she began to grill the first sandwich. “There are some crackers on top of the fridge too.” Sansa told him and Theon grabbed those and put them on the counter beside where he had placed the bowl for the tomato soup.

“And your mother?” Theon asked her. Sansa shook her head.

“I haven’t told her yet. Robb was hard enough, he took what you did harder than my mother I think, mostly because you were most like family to him. My mother just prefers to not think about it all since the trial. She’s glad Rickon and Bran are safe, and she was mad about the verdict for a while, but she’s not as angry anymore.” Sansa explained. That was a lie, but she wasn’t going to go out of her way to tell the truth. Her mother was just as angry as Robb she knew, but Robb had been a hard enough discussion for one day, and that had just been over texts. Her mother was a battle for another day.

Theon wasn’t satisfied with this bluff.

“Sansa, tell me the truth.”

“She doesn’t know yet. I knew the conversation with Robb was going to be hard, and she’s going to be hard too. She hates you just as much as Robb.” Sansa blurted. As Theon put the soup in the microwave, (Sansa was occupying the stove, and neither of them trusted him with the stove for anything aside from scrambled eggs) he smiled ruefully at the soup as it sat spinning on the revolving plate.

“Of all the girls in all the world, I had to love you. The girl who’s entire group of family and friends hate me.” Theon replied and kissed her cheek as he went to set the table while the soup heated.

“It’s okay.” Sansa replied as she flipped over the grilled cheese, the bread toasted in a dark, almost black brown. The first one she made was Theon’s and she knew that he liked it just shy of burned. “Though, she’s probably going to find out soon. You know how close she and Robb are. How do you feel about Robb knowing?” she asked him, placing the sandwich on a plate.

“It’s to be expected.” Theon replied as he went back to the table and placed the plate underneath a bowl, with the sandwich neatly to the side of the bowl. He returned to the kitchen just as the microwave beeped and attempted to retrieve the bowl from it. Usually, he was able to handle most things, but this time, the bowl was too hot and he had touched it too soon, and it slipped from his fingers. He cursed as the soup fell on his bare foot. Sansa immediately turned off the stove and went for a rag to mop up the mess and he did the same, picking up the plastic bowl off the floor and putting it on the counter before he continued helping her. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s alright. Things like this happen. Remember when Arya spilled the pasta noodles on her foot?” she asked him. He nodded. Arya had been thirteen, and allowed to make dinner for the first time. She went with spaghetti and sauce, because it was easy enough and she had seen her mother and the cook make it often enough. When the noodles had been ready, she had walked over to the sink to drain them, only to have the pot slip from her grasp and hot water spill all over her bare feet. She let out a gut-wrenching scream which had the entire household running to the kitchen. She had enough sense to get away from the water, and was sitting on the floor against the refrigerator sobbing. The end result was that she was allowed to skip school the next two days because her foot was burned so bad that she couldn’t walk.

Once the mess was cleaned, Sansa led Theon over to the table and knelt in front of him to look at his foot. It had been the one missing the toe, but looked alright, despite being a little red from both the tomato soup as well as the burn. She smiled up at him happily.

“At least you made it in the microwave. If you had done it on the stove it probably would have been much worse.” She told him. He still wasn’t convinced. “What’s wrong?”

“Arya was thirteen, and had all ten of her fingers…” Theon muttered and Sansa got up and hugged him. There wasn’t much she could say to that. She had only been through two psychology courses, and read through a few of Ramsey’s graduate level psychology text books, but she knew enough to know that Theon would be grieving for his lost limbs for a long time, despite the fact that he functioned well without them. Ramsey had enough sense to teach Theon how to function without his missing limbs, and for that at least, she knew both she and Theon were grateful. She rubbed his back soothingly before pulling away and going back to the stove. She didn’t wait for her sandwich to finish, but instead plated it and came back to the table. He gave her a questioning glance.

“No sense in having you wait for me.” She replied as she bit into her soggy sandwich. Theon smiled.

“Sansa Stark. Forever the dutiful wife and girlfriend. No matter how much she might hate it.” He told her and she smiled back at him as they ate their sandwiches. They would be hungry later, but anything to get him to forget his pains, at least for a second.

\--  
Another awkward moment came later, as they were getting ready for bed. Theon looked at her as she went into her room, and looked at his own door, then looked back at her.

“What?” Sansa asked him.

“It’s just…where do I sleep now?” he asked her. She looked at him and leaned against her door frame.

“Up to you.” She told him, not wanting to force him into deciding anything or making him uncomfortable, especially after what had happened earlier while they were making dinner. “I’m going to get ready for bed though, six comes bright and early you know.” She told him as she closed her door, leaving it open just a crack, just to make sure he knew that he was welcome to come in if he wanted. She went about the room, collecting her stuff for bed, and smiled when she heard the door open further, but didn’t turn around to betray her face.

She felt thin, strong arms at the buttons of the blouse she had worn for work, unbuttoning them from behind, and she wondered how many times Theon had done this with how many other girls. Her nose wrinkled at the thought and she turned and faced him. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to go this far yet, despite the fact there was a feeling at the bottom of her stomach that said otherwise. She certainly knew that he wasn’t ready. He looked innocent enough, and eager to please. She kissed him and pushed him gently down onto the bed as she went into the bathroom. He followed her only to have her stop at the bathroom door.

“I’m not quite ready for that just yet.” She told him. “But wait in my room okay?” she asked him as she closed the door gently behind her. She felt like she was punishing a puppy as she turned on the shower.

Sansa wasn’t a stranger to the touch of a man. Joffrey had been violent and bruising. Tyrion had been gentle, and unforceful, not wanting to make her do things she hadn’t wanted. Ramsey had been, well…violent and bruising, but ten times worse than Joff. The feelings she had when Theon touched her had been gentle, and cautious a lot of the time, despite his history with women. She knew part of it was because he had seen the way Ramsey had treated her, and he didn’t want to do anything with her that hurt her, and she was grateful. Though there was still a feeling in the pit of her stomach that said she shouldn’t have even been living with Theon to begin with, but she knew in her heart that she couldn’t have a ‘normal’ relationship with a man after all that had happened between her engagement to Joffrey and now. Theon was the only one who seemed to get it. He had been her best friend since they left Winterfell two years ago, but there were still things that she knew that both of them were holding back.

As she got out of the shower and dried her hair with a towel, she wondered if there would always be things that they wouldn’t tell each other. Maybe Robb had been right, when he had said they had been doomed for failure.

 _‘He’s done too much to us. He’s too damaged. You aren’t going to be able to fix him Sansa, no matter how much I know you want to.’_ He had said to her in a text message during her lunch, when she had told him the news. Was that really it? Did she really say yes because she had wanted to fix him? She couldn’t be sure, but what she did know was how it felt to be in his arms or to hold him when one or the other had trouble sleeping, and they ended up sharing a bed. To wake up like that, and to have him groan and cling tighter to her when it was time to get up. But still, was there really a chance that Robb could be right about her and Theon?

She got out of the bathroom again, only to find Theon already asleep, curled into a semi-formed ball in her bed under the blanket and she smiled. She slipped into the bed beside him, only to have him fling an arm over her and squeeze her lightly, and he opened one eye.

“Go back to sleep.” She told him as she moved so he could have a better grasp. He curled up behind her and held her, and she felt his breath on a bare part of her neck and after a few minutes, she felt his breathing even out and she cuddled into him, but her heart was still conflicted.


	7. Pop Culture and Facebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay hears the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For like, two seconds I thought about splitting this chapter, but rather doing split point of views in one chapter, I think I'll just stick with one. Anyway, this is the chapter where Ramsay finds out about Sansa and Theon getting into a relationship. I stopped it where I did because I'm stuck on the HOW of getting Ramsay to communicate with Sansa or Theon. If you have any suggestions, please leave them in the comments!
> 
> Sorry it's so short, I also wanted to move the narrative along a bit as well, since I know it's been slow going, so the next chapter is going to take place about three week after Sansa and Theon started dating.

_**A week later on Facebook…** _

_Sansa Stark is **in a relationship** with Theon Greyjoy._

_Catelyn Tully Stark_

_Call me please._

_-1 Like (Jeyne Poole)_

_Jeyne Poole_

_WHAT?! Why didn’t you tell me?! CALL ME TOO._

_Robb Stark_

_…_

_Jon Snow_

_I’m not sure how I feel about this, but I’m glad Theon took my advice seriously._

_Robb Stark_

_YOU encouraged this?! WHY JON?!_

_Jon Snow_

_Not the place Robb, I’ll call you later to talk about it._

_-1 Like (Robb Stark)_

\--

**Kings’ Landing Hospital for the Criminally Insane…a week after Theon and Sansa become “Facebook Official”…**

Kings’ Landing Hospital for the Criminally Insane wasn’t exactly a prison. It was mainly a mental hospital. If the courts deemed a patient to be able to have the potential to turn into a highly functioning member of society, they were sent here. Of course, they were also sent here if they weren’t, but had connections enough to get out of going to prison, they just had to subject themselves to years and years of therapy as well as pay a few thousand a year in official and unofficial payments to the hospital. Ramsay Bolton fell into the second category. While he was a bastard child of a political leader, his father couldn’t stand the idea of bringing further shame to his house by letting his son go to prison.

“Bolton! Got your mail!” one of the orderlies called down the hallway. A pair of pale eyes looked out of the cell eagerly. He pouted when he saw that the staples were taken out of the pop culture news magazine, again.

“No staples? Geez. It’s not like I’m a danger to myself.” Ramsay said to the orderly and he rolled his eyes.

“You know the rules Bolton.” He replied as he thrusted the mail into the slot where the patients also received their meals. Once it had been received, the orderly wandered off, calling “Clegane, Sandor!” to give the next patient his mail.

Ramsay, before his time in the hospital, hated the pop culture news magazines, because before he had been a subject in them, but since he began his time here (“Ten years, maybe less if he responds well to treatment.” Dr. Pycelle had told his father and step-mother a year and a half ago when his time began), he had relied on them as much as someone on the outside would have relied on Facebook. What a better way to keep track of all the political elite that he had grown up hearing so much about and had dealt with for such a short, disappointing amount of time. He flipped between the pages casually as he could, being careful to keep track of where he was. His eyes grew wide when he looked at one of the headlines for political news:

_SANSA STARK IN A RELATIONSHIP?!_

_Sources indicate the once engaged and twice divorced Sansa Stark is back out in the dating world. Sansa disappeared from the public eye two years ago after the trial of her ex-husband, Ramsey Bolton, who was charged with domestic violence as well as the kidnapping and brutalizing of Theon Greyjoy. While Greyjoy was guilty of crimes of his own, the courts felt that his brutalization at the hands of Bolton was enough of a punishment, and he now faces ten years of parole, but no imprisonment._

_Stark lived quietly at the new Stark home in King’s Landing for a few months until moving in with Greyjoy, with whom our sources tell us she had a very complicated relationship. One source close to the couple states: “He helped her run away from Ramsay, and they’ve been helping each other live normal lives since.” It wasn’t until recently that Stark and Greyjoy decided to become “Facebook official.” The new couple declined to comment about their current relationship._

Ramsay put down the paper and leaned against the wall of his cell. A smile formed across his lips in a cat-like manner. He was going to have a lot of fun with this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya comes for a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pant* *pant* *pant*
> 
> I MIGHT start pushing it back towards a modern version of the canon starting the next chapter. This chapter is really canon-divergence-y, with the only way it really sticks to the canon is Sansa and Theon running away from Ramsey. Also, the event where Theon takes beatings from Ramsey to get him to stop hitting Sansa is also mentioned in my other fic "Not Her."

Arya was curled up in a very Arya-like position on the ground in front of their front door when Theon came home from work a few days after he and Sansa officially announced their relationship. He was genuinely surprised to see the younger girl. At twenty-one, once Arya had graduated from school with a degree in sports medicine, she decided to travel and not go to medical school like her mother had insisted. Last anyone had heard from her, it was said that she working in a custodial position out of the country in some church called The House of Black and White that was rumored to have some association with the Bravosi military, a group of religious mercenaries (not terrorists, he had heard her proclaim loudly in a few phone calls with Sansa, loud enough he could make it out on Sansa’s side of the conversation). But there she was. Her hair was short, and tied back into a small pony tail, and her head was lying on her backpack as she slept. He had no idea how long she had been there, but he had a feeling it had something to do with his and Sansa’s little announcement.

Theon did have a soft spot for Arya, if he really thought about it. There had been a lot of things that had happened over the past couple years though, and he knew that Arya, like her brother and mother, hated him. And she was probably back in King’s Landing just so that she could tell him how she hated him. He lifted her gently, with recently regained muscles from his construction work. She was still short and scrawny, like she had been when she was younger. He placed her on the couch and looked at Lady, who was laying down under the big window looking out to the street. He put a finger to his lips when the dog looked at him, and he went into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

\--

The girl was awake when Theon got out of the shower. Arya gave him an evil look. In honor of his unexpected guest, Theon was dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. He had socks on his feet to hide his missing toes, but there was nothing he could do to hide his fingers. Arya was staring at his fingers when she spoke.

“Where’s Sansa?” Arya asked him.

“Class.” Theon told her.

“Did you bring me in here?” Arya asked him again. Theon nodded and Arya folded her feet under her.

“Yeah.” Theon told her again. “I’m guessing you heard about Sansa and me?” He knew Arya didn’t have Facebook, much to her mother’s annoyance.

“Yeah. They were talking about it even in Bravos.” Arya replied. “I saw it in one of the magazines.” They sat in awkward silence for another moment, when Arya spoke again. “I can’t believe it. Still. Why did she say yes?” Theon was thoughtful before he spoke again.

“None of you would understand.” Theon told her. “What we went through with Ramsay.” Arya bit her lip. “It put a lot of stuff in perspective.”

“Like what?” Arya asked him.

“Just a lot…it didn’t take losing a few toes, fingers, and teeth to make me realize who my real family was. It was just salt in the wound.” Theon told her, as he bit the inside of his lip using his dentures. With the settlement money that the Boltons had paid both him and Sansa, he had used his share to get new teeth. After having most of his teeth broken, it still felt weird to be able to eat normal food again.

“I’m willing to understand.” Arya offered reluctantly. “That is…if you want to talk about it.” She told him. That was a surprise to Theon. Theon leaned back on the couch across from Arya, not sure where to start his explanation. Before he got a chance to however, Sansa opened the door. Lady greeted her, but was ignored when Sansa saw who was sitting in her living room.

“Arya? What are you doing here?” Sansa asked her little sister. Arya smiled half-heartedly.

“That was actually something you hadn’t quite gotten to yet.” Theon added as Sansa hung her bag and coat on a set of hooks beside the front door. She took off her shoes and walked them over to her bedroom.

“Hang on. Don’t start just yet. I need to feed Lady.” She called to them as she placed her shoes inside her bedroom door and then went into the kitchen, followed by said dog. Arya and Theon continued to stare at each other awkwardly as Sansa moved about the kitchen, getting Lady’s dinner taken care of. Once she was back, Sansa sat on one side of the couch across from Theon. The man had known her ever since she was a baby. He could tell that she was forcing herself to keep her distance. Not that they were super affectionate with each other, but it wasn’t usually this awkward. Arya seemed to have noticed it too.

“It’s okay for you to be yourself. You are explaining this all to me after all.” Arya told her sister. Sansa smiled nervously and looked over at Theon, both of them wondering where to begin with the tale of how they basically saved each other’s lives. They moved to be a little bit closer to each other, as if to provide comfort with the proximity.

“It started on their wedding night.” Theon began. “He—he raped her.” Theon said. Arya glanced over at her sister. Sansa’s eyes glazed over slightly, as if she was reliving that night. Theon continued. “After that, I confronted him. I told him to stop. My first thought was that’s the least I could do, after all that I put your family through, but then I realized that there was more to it than that. I couldn’t stand to see Sansa hurt. So he beat me instead.” Theon finished with a mumble. He looked over at Sansa, and squeezed her hand lightly, as if to try and bring her back to reality. Sansa shook her head with a start and looked at Arya. Sansa looked over at her sister and continued the story.

“The day after, he came to tend to me. Of course, I was disgusted by him, and wanted nothing more than for him to go away. But then, he told me what he did for me and I was so surprised. Of course though, Ramsey didn’t stop beating me and raping me, but Theon still fought for me in the best way that he could.” Sansa explained to Arya. “One of the staff of the household, Brienne, had a way to get me out. I just had to let her know when I was ready. At that point though, Theon just—wasn’t ready. I had told him about Brienne’s plan, and he told Ramsey. I got brutalized more for that.”

Arya shot Theon a look. Theon grimaced and avoided eye contact with her as he continued the story.

“In the end, Ramsey found out about Brienne and beat her. His father though, allowed her to leave the household. When Brienne left, that was when Sansa decided to leave to. There was a big to-do about her leaving, so that was when she ran. However, Ramsey had a lover, Myranda, who saw Sansa escaping. She went after her to bring her back.” Theon explained. “She took me with her, but when we finally found Sansa, that was when I began to snap out of Ramsey’s brainwashing. I hit her, and she fell down the stairs and broke her neck. I heard she died a week later. Sansa and I were able to escape out of the back door.” Theon let out a breath. “Then, we got to the nearest town and to the police station. We didn’t trust the police station in Winterfell. We called your family and I think you know the rest from there…” 

The three of them sat in silence for a moment and Arya absorbed everything she had just been told. She nodded slowly.

“We traveled for about a week to get to Kings Landing because Mum and Robb couldn’t afford to come get us. Theon really proved himself then.” Sansa said with a smile. “Is there anything else you need to know?” Arya shook her head. A lot of the stuff she had been able to gather from what she had gleaned from the news from Westeros while she had been in Braavos. “Though, something else though, what are you doing here?”

Arya smiled slightly.

“I figured it was about time for me to come back. I still haven’t gone by Mum’s yet. I’ll bet she has a heart attack when she sees me.” Arya said, her grin going wider. Sansa rolled her eyes, but smiled at her sister’s mischievous. There was more that she wanted to tell her, but that would have to wait until Theon wasn’t around, like the whole marriage proposal thing. “Can I stay here for the night?” she asked Sansa and Theon. The two looked at each other. Theon shrugged.

“Sure, you can share the bed with me in my room.” Sansa replied. Theon had a barely distinguishable look of disappointment on his face. Sansa didn’t care too much though. If Arya was sleeping in her room, that would be the perfect chance for her and her sister to really talk about things. She and Arya weren’t normally that close, but it would be nice to have a girl’s opinion about this, even if it was just her sister. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff into my room.” As the girls went into Sansa’s room to get Arya squared away, Theon’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans. He got it out and saw that it was a text from his sister.

‘You’re in luck. I’m on the mainland for a bit. Let’s meet for some drinks.’ The text read. Theon smiled slightly and got up, going to his room to change and shower. Once he was completely changed and showered, dressed in casual jeans and a long sleeve shirt, he headed towards the door.

“Going out for a bit.” Theon called. Sansa came out of her room. “Yara’s got some business on the mainland. Wants to meet for drinks.” Theon told her. She nodded.

“Be careful okay?” Sansa told him. He nodded as he left the house.


	9. The Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yara approaches Theon about a business deal. Also some detail about the Greyjoy's family history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more updates! Don't be considering this weekly/daily or whatever though I'm afraid. :( I just have a lot of free time right now mainly because my summer classes haven't started. I messed with Rodrik and Maron's ages some, making them much older then Theon and Yara/live longer. I looked up their ages while I was writing the family history bit and was surprised at how young they were when they died.

The Greyjoys were the mob. Balon Greyjoy had attempted a coup of the government, only to have it end in a matter of months. He had believed that he had enough commercial power in the country to pull it off. He was wrong. Regardless, the Greyjoys still controlled the Iron Islands. Their primary guise was as a shipping company, who dealt in most of the imports and exports of Westeros.

It was all over the news for months after, and the Greyjoys were a household name for awhile. Alyannys filed for divorce and followed her husband off the deep end. Shortly after her divorce, she found herself in an adult-care facility. Her underage children becoming wards of the state after she was committed. Rodrik, who had been eighteen at the time, was well on his way to developing a record like that of his father. The young man was considered an adult, so he was given control of the company with his Uncle Euron as an advisor. At twenty-seven, he was murdered courtesy of a bad business deal. There were rumors that this “deal” had been a part of a conspiracy. That Rodrik did not want to return control to his father after his stint in jail. This conspiracy was never investigated.

Maron, at age seventeen at the time, was not as lucky as his older brother. As a high school senior, he renowned throughout Pyke as one of the most well known drug dealers. It was believed that he had been waiting on a shipment of drugs to come in when he was murdered. One of his clients had stabbed him in the chest a few months after his parents’ divorce. Due to being in foster care, neither of his siblings were able to attend the funeral.

Yara meanwhile, had been lucky during her stint in foster care. She was thirteen when she entered the system, and fostered by the CEO of one of her father’s child companies. The woman, Elenya Wynch, was a brilliant business woman, and she made it a point to help Yara become the same. This training was what made Yara one of the most cunning bosses that Greyjoy Shipping had ever seen. Due to her father's will, Yara ran the company alongside her Uncle Euron. Balon did not trust his children to run the company alone. He required that if any of them were to run the company, they must do it alongside one of their uncles.

To say that the two had an uneasy peace was a bit of an understatement. They worked together well enough, but hated each other. Euron never trusted Balon’s business practices. He felt that his brother’s instability had led to the company's recent downhill slide. He did not trust Yara to run the company well. Euron believed that her father's instability is what led to the downfall of the company. This is the business that brought Yara to the mainland.

She wanted someone who could look at the culture of the Iron Islands from an outside perspective. She didn't trust Euron and knew that anyone on the Iron Islands would be able to do that properly. This was why she needed her little brother. Part of the problem with the Iron Islands was that they were a country of themselves. It was agreed that their lack of connection with the mainland was what caused her father to go power crazy.

So she found herself in one of the bars at the port, The Blackwater. She had not seen her little brother in a few years. At one point, she had gone to talk to Ramsey about giving him back to her. She grimaced at this memory and flagged down the bartender as it came to her unbidden.

\--

_The two sat in an uneasy silence in Ramsey’s office. Yara had come with terms, was willing to pay a ransom, anything. Ramsey just smiled at her when she asked to see her brother. He got up from his desk chair and walked around the desk, sitting on the edge of it in front of her. The smile got wider when he looked into her eyes._

_“If he remembers you, you can have him back.” Ramsey told her. He reached back and pressed a button on his desk._

_“Yes sir?” a young man’s voice sounded over the intercom._

_“Walder. Bring in Reek. We have a visitor who wants to see him.” Ramsey told the boy. It sounded like he couldn’t have been older than eighteen, some temp kid. Judging from Ramsey, he was probably one in a long string of temps that this man went through._

_“Yes sir.” the young man, Walder, replied and the intercom shut off with a click. Yara attempted to look everywhere but the man’s grey eyes. She found it difficult to believe that this man had the ability to so easily work with animals. Weren’t dogs supposed to be even more sensitive to sketchy behavior than humans?_

_She turned around when she saw Ramsey look towards the door behind her. Ramsey smiled, almost like he was looking at his best friend when she saw her brother. The girl’s eyes suddenly got heavy with unshed tears when she saw her brother. He looked skeletal._

_“Theon-” Yara started._

_“No! Not Theon! My name is Reek! Reek, Reek, it rhymes with freak.” Theon chanted, almost like he was trying to remember his ‘name.’_

_“Theon. Don’t you recognize--” Yara began. She glared at Ramsey, whose grin grew even wider._

_“Reek. Do you want to go home with this woman?” Ramsey said sweetly. Theon shook his head vigorously. He reacted like a dog who was resisting going to the vet._

_“No. No Master. I want to stay here with you.” Theon told him. Yara’s unsure look turned into a scowl as she turned from the thing. No, he wasn’t her brother anymore._

_“Does that answer your question Ms. Greyjoy?” Ramsey asked her, almost rhetorically. As if in answer, Yara left the office._

\--

Yara snapped out of the memory when the bartender placed the rum and Coke in front of her. She smiled and stuck a tip in the nearest tip jar. After that day, Yara hadn’t seen her brother since that day in Ramsey’s office. She didn’t contact her brother once, and he didn’t contact her. The culture of the Iron Islands, familial relationships were gruff. They didn’t show affection like most, and were awkward when it came to relationships.

“Sister?” a voice said behind him. Another thing too, Theon was the only one of her brothers to ever call her that. She spun around on the bar stool. There he was. He looked older, but looked healthier than he did that fateful day in Ramsey’s office. He wore a grey long sleeve shirt, and a pair of jeans which looked worn, but no holes. On his feet were a simple pair of slip on shoes.

Unbidden, Yara got up from the barstool and hugged him. Theon froze, arms stiff at his side. She let him go after a moment and he moved to sit on the stool next to her and waved a hand to flag down the bartender. Yara frowned when she saw the mangled remains of his hand.

“Pepsi please.” Theon told the bartender. He nodded. Once Theon’s attention had turned back to her, Yara wipe the frown off her face. “How are you?” he asked her. Yara shrugged her shoulders and sipped her drink.

“Euron is a whiny little bitch and is trying to overthrow me at every turn. Nothing new.” Yara told him. “But let’s cut the small talk Theon. You’re actually the reason why I’m here.” Yara told him. “I need you to come home.” Theon paused.

“Home?” Theon asked her.

“I need you to come back and help run Greyjoy Shipping. We’re not going to go straight. We need someone who’s familiar with mainland politics to keep us out of trouble.” Yara told him. “I’ve talked to Euron, we’re willing to fund your college education. We need you to further study all the politics and law, and then come back as part of our legal team.” The bartender placed the Pepsi in front of Theon and he swished his straw around in the glass.

“I’m a convict.” Theon pointed out. Yara rolled her eyes.

“Details.” the woman told him. “You’d be working for the mob. There’s always a way around legal technicalities.”

“What about Sansa?” Theon asked. Yara paused mid sip of her drink.

“You can go to school here. You just have to come back to the Iron Islands after graduation. That’s years away.” Yara pointed out. “A law degree takes at least seven years.” She downed the last bit of her drink and got up from the stool, flagging the bartender down again. “I got his drink. Think about it, little brother.” she told him simply as she walked out of the bar.

Theon sat at the bar for a little bit longer and finished his drink. To go back to the Iron Islands? That was not something that he could do easily. His status as a convict was not something that would make him an outcast in the Iron Islands, like it would here. But his castration was something that would make him suffer if he moved back to the Iron Islands. Iron Islanders did not respect those who they considered weak. Considering the physical status of his manhood, he knew his going back would be a difficult.

Once he finished his drink, he also got up and put a tip in the jar, his hands in his pockets as he slowly made his way to the door. He did miss his sister though, and he did remember what his father was like during his young childhood. His father’s company was only barely able to stay off the radar of the mainland government. Even if Yara and Euron were able to pull strings and get him into law school, he couldn’t imagine working for them. Maybe as a low-level peon, but to be on the legal team seemed absolutely ludicrous. He frowned when he felt his phone buzz as he was getting into his truck.

_“Hey. How’d your talk go? Arya’s asleep._ ” Sansa’s message read. Theon looked at the message for a minute, as he was still in a state of shock.

_“I’ll tell you about it when I get home. It’s a bit difficult to explain over a text message.”_ Theon replied. After he hit send, he started the truck and headed for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking next chapter I'll write about Sansa and Arya's conversation while Theon was out. Some of Sansa's concerns will be touched on. I know one commenter mentioned about how Theon's wanting to marry Sansa seems a little strange. That'll be addressed in the next chapter too in a way, to hopefully give more of an in-story reason for it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya has some real-talk about Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope this helps explain Theon's weirdness a little. I had a similar reaction to Theon's when I started college, and was clinging to one of my good friends for dear life because of all the changes that I had going on in my life (I was about 17 and a half when I started college). That's basically what's going on here. Sansa is the one really constant thing in Theon's life and he's trying really hard to cling to her, and she is getting uncomfortable but doesn't want to say anything. Arya is basically like "he needs you, and that's fine, but you need him too. No one is going to understand what happened with Ramsay better then the two of you." I was a little unsure about how I wrote Arya though.
> 
> Anyway, I'm vaguely trying to follow the plot of season 6 of the show, except with Robb and Catelyn alive, so there'll be some differences there. So we're going to take some detours here and there (like talking about what happened with Arya in Braavos).

Arya and Sansa sat together in silence for a few minutes after Theon left. Arya went about unpacking a wrinkled pair of sweatpants and a tank top from her backpack. Sansa smiled at how predictable the status of her clothes was.

“Ms. Mordane would murder you if she saw the state of your clothes.” Sansa joked and Arya wrinkled her nose at her sister as she got up from where she was cross-legged on the floor. She wandered into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a bath. I’ll leave the door cracked so we can talk.” Arya told her. Sansa nodded and waited for her sister to get herself settled in the bathroom before she came out of the room and sat cross-legged against the door frame of Theon’s open door. “So, what do you think of Theon?” Arya asked her once the water had stopped running. Sansa frowned at the other side of Theon’s door frame at the question.

“I thought we already talked about this.” Sansa asked her.

“We did, with Theon here. Now I’m asking your honest opinion.” Arya replied. Sansa sighed.

“When did you get so good at reading people?” Sansa asked her. She heard a splash as her sister laughed.

“First rule about The House of Black and White is that you don’t talk about it...” Arya joked, and Sansa could not tell if she was serious or not. She figured they would save that conversation for another day. “…but really, honest opinion.” Arya told her.

“I think he’s confused. He asked me to marry him.” Sansa told her sister and she heard a sudden splash again.

“What did you say?!” Arya demanded, and she heard the sound of her shampoo getting picked up and scrubbed through hair.

“I told him no. He’s-he’s confused right now. Things have only really just begun to settle down. With the trial, him getting his parole established, me getting set up in school. Our lives have only really just begun to get back to normal. He’s looking for something to hold onto among the change. I can’t do that for him right now, not in the way that he wants.” Sansa replied. She heard the sound of Arya’s head dunking under water to rinse the shampoo out of her hair as she talked.

“Then why are you guys dating?” Arya asked her, and she heard the sound of the soap being picked up, and then splashes as Arya cleaned herself.

“I- I don’t know. It seems like the right thing to do? Theon and I are a mess still. He’s going to therapy, and I’ve been going whenever I’ve had a chance. He’s got an easier time of it, since the therapy is one of the parts of his parole, but for me, it’s harder to make the time…” Sansa trailed off. “I mean; could you imagine me with anyone else? I mean not right this moment, but even a few years from now?” Sansa asked her sister and she heard the sounds of more splashing as Arya finished cleaning herself and started draining the tub. She heard the sound of Arya toweling off her hair, and the elastic on her sweats coming over her waist as she put on her pajamas. Arya opened the door and turned the bathroom fan on, now dressed in the pajamas she had gone into the bathroom with.

“Considering what we’ve gone through the past few years, I think it would be hard for any of us. Most of all you.” Arya told her as she walked back into the bedroom and dug around in her backpack for her toothbrush. “I don’t have any toothpaste, can I use yours?” she asked her sister and Sansa rolled her eyes.

“I suppose; you did help yourself to my shampoo after all.” Sansa told her. The girl grinned. She walked into the bathroom and squeezed some of the toothpaste out onto her toothbrush and started brushing her teeth. Lady came over and nudged at Sansa’s hand while Sansa stood in the bathroom door, and Sansa patted the dog’s head. Arya spit in the sink, and ran the water to clean the toothpaste residue out of it.

“But I guess what I’m trying to say is, do whatever you think is best to help you and Theon. I just think that maybe if you feel like he’s grasping onto you like you’re his only foundation, then you just need to maybe not put a label on your relationship.” Arya told her. “You guys have a bond together that no one is going to understand, at least at this point. It’s been two years since Ramsay. You’ve still got some time before people are going to consider you both ‘over it,’ but especially Theon since he lost those fingers and toes...and his dick.” Arya told her sister bluntly. She sighed, and faced her sister, shoulder leaning against the bathroom wall. “I’m not trying to diminish what you went through, because shit still sucks for you too, but if Theon needs someone to be there for him, then you should be there for him, since I don’t think anyone else really wants to.”

Sansa bit her lip, knowing her sister had a valid point. Theon was essentially friendless here on the mainland. He had talked about going back to the Iron Islands right after the trial, but he decided against it. If her family was all about politics and being law-abiding citizens, then his family was about the opposite. He told her that while anyone in Pyke would not bat an eye at his having a criminal record, they would however have things to say about his no longer having a penis, and he was not ready to face that.

“The other thing to though is, you should expect the same from him in return.” Arya told her as she lifted herself up off the wall and walked out of the bathroom. “If you’re the one doing all the supporting, then that’s a problem. Right now, it sounds like you’re just letting him be overly-emotional and needy without considering your feelings.” Sansa nodded.

“You’re right.” She replied. Arya grinned.

“Of course I am.” Arya replied and Sansa bopped her sister lightly upside the head in an affectionate gesture. She yawned and walked the short distance to Sansa’s room and laid out face first on her sister’s bed. “I’m tired.” Arya declared and inched, worm like, towards the head of the bed. “Tuck me in!!” Arya sang. Sansa rolled her eyes at her younger sister and moved the blankets over her back. Arya turned over and smiled up at Sansa, hints of drowsiness evident on her face in minutes. Sansa looked at her sister.

“What did you do while you were in Braavos?” Sansa asked her sister. Arya shook her head drowsily and her eyes blinked closed.

“Tomorrow…” Arya mumbled in what was mostly a yawn, and shortly her breathing evened out as she fell asleep. Sansa frowned. She noticed some scars on her little sister’s back as she goofed around when she plopped face down on the bed.

She frowned to herself as she left the room, turning off the light and shutting the door. She would go in later when she needed to get ready for bed. She took her phone from her back pocket and texted Theon. She assumed that he was either finished or finishing his talk with his sister.

“ _Hey. How’d your talk go? Arya’s asleep.”_ Sansa wrote and hit send. She went to a chair in the living room and hunted for a book in her backpack, Teaching Children with Exceptionalities, and she idly read a few pages in the chapter her class was currently on, about teaching gifted children, her phone tucked between the bottom of her thigh and the couch cushion. She frowned slightly when it vibrated, not expecting a text back so quickly.

 _“I’ll tell you about it when I get home. It’s a bit difficult to explain over a text message.”_ Theon had written back, and Sansa went back to reading her textbook chapter. She was about halfway through the chapter when she started, and was finished with the chapter, about to begin the assigned homework questions at the end of the chapter when she heard the knob on the front door turn. She smiled softly when she heard Theon’s uneven-gate come through the front door.

“What happened?” Sansa asked him, sticking her notebook in the book at the end of the chapter as a sort of bookmark. Theon frowned at the sliding door on the opposite side of the room, his fingers idly running through Lady’s fur as he contemplated where to begin his story. Sansa knew a little about his family’s history as mobsters of course, considering what led him to become a foster child, but the entire conversation, no matter how short, was still taking its time to sink in. It still had not quite sunk in during the drive home either. “…Theon?” she asked him. Theon looked over at her and smiled weakly.

“Yara’s offering to pay for me to go to college. Law school. Her and Euron need someone from the mainland on the law team for the company. They aren’t going straight, but they want someone who can know how to manipulate things in such a way so that they can keep staying off the radar.” Theon explained.

“But you’re a felon technically aren’t you? A terrorist…” Sansa trailed off. Theon nodded. It was reasonable in a way, beyond the whole felon/terrorist technicality. A lot of the kids who grew up in mainland Westeros in some of the higher crust families had a sort of ingrained knowledge of the politics and laws, and how to bypass them. Even Robb and Jon were familiar with a lot of the ins and outs, despite growing up as sons of one of the most moral politicians Westeros had seen in years.

“The best I can do is talk to my parole officer, see what he thinks. I go see him tomorrow.” Theon told Sansa. He knew Yara would pull some strings, but there had to be some points that would prevent him from doing it. “Either way, she wants me to come home. For what though…I don’t know.”

Sansa frowned.

“Anyway, Arya’s sleeping in my bed tonight. I think I’m going to pull an all-nighter.” Sansa told him. “She’s terrible at sharing a bed.” Theon nodded. It was Thursday night, so Sansa didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, since she didn’t have classes. She had had substituting jobs all week, so she could get away with missing a day. Theon got up and kissed her on the forehead.

“’night.” He told her as he went into his bedroom, still pondering about the day.

“Good night.” Sansa replied as she opened her book again.


	11. The Closeted Crazy Dog Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay meets his new psychologist, and his therapy takes a rather interesting turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS NO SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> However, there is something I've always wanted to write more about. I wrote a one shot about the only thing that Ramsay really loves is his dogs [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4403987), and have always wanted to write a fic about Ramsay and his love for dogs. And then [AsbestosMouth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AsbestosMouth/profile) came into my life and introduced [Beric/Ramsay as a ship, and it's so terribly fluffy and violent all at once that it's wonderful.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7338031)
> 
> I also apologize in advance for my past/present tense confusion. I'm reading a lot of stuff that is present tense lately, so it's infecting my writing style *usually only writes in past tense*
> 
> Also, you're getting a ton of updates because I've been celebrating. My month long hell of a class ended on the 30th, so I haven't been focusing on my OTHER class this weekend. Though, come tomorrow, it'll be back into the romantics until the end of July, then you'll get a few more updates again.

**King’s Landing Hospital for the Criminally Insane – Treatment Room 101**

Ramsay sulked in a corner of the room as he slouched, stretched out in a folding chair. He sneered at the number on the room door. 101, and Ramsay can’t help but wonder if this treatment was some kind of a joke. Ramsay went over to the door and glared through the window, raising just slightly on his toes to look through the window.

“Hey! When’s this treatment going to start?!” Ramsay demanded. His eyes met those of a man slightly older then he was. He must have just finished medical school, judging from his age and demeanor. “Who’re you?” Ramsay asked the man.

“Dr. Lucas.” The man told him. Dr. Lucas entered the room and moved to a chair behind a cheap desk, all professionalism. Ramsay sat back into the chair with a huff. Lucas takes out a file. “I’ve been told by Dr. Pycelle that you’re interested in animals?” Ramsay’s demeanor changes ever so slightly, and he gives Lucas a side eye, feigning uninterest.

Ramsay has loved dogs ever since he was a kid. He studied psychology in university, and later got a master’s degree in animal behavior. He had just finished his degree after Sansa and Reek had left, and had barely started a job in research and development for some company that made dog toys before he got arrested. A little weird, but his father had been at least somewhat pleased when he had graduated with his masters’ degree. Next to torturing some of his human toys, he enjoyed his full time job, and was disappointed when he left. He found out after he had been in the hospital for a few months that his father had put his dogs up for adoption. Ramsay wondered if they were even still alive. He had trained them so well, they had a tendency to not take well to people who were not him.

“Dr. Pycelle has given me permission to try a different form of treatment for you. As you know, we have a lot of grounds around the hospital, and we’ll be bringing in a therapy dog for you, along with its handler, one of our doctors. Twice a week, for a few hours, you’ll get to walk around the grounds with the dog and this person, and we hope this might help with some of your anti-social tendencies.” Lucas explained. Ramsay’s nose wrinkled. The dog probably wasn’t going to be any fun, but it would be nice to be around a dog again. Lucas smiled, and made a note in Ramsay’s file.

“If you show progress after six months of this treatment, there is a chance we may switch you to strictly monitored outpatient treatment.” Lucas told Ramsay, and the other man froze. “Meaning, you spend your days here, but at night you will be allowed to go home. You’ll be monitored at all times of course, by a guard from the hospital as well as another doctor, and you’ll be required to live with your father and step-mother, but I’m sure that would be better than being here.” Lucas looked up from the file when he heard a knock at the door. “Oh, and I think they’re here now.” Lucas said. “Come in.”

Ramsay looked over at the man, early thirties, and was probably even a year or two older then Reek. He was incredibly tall with short cropped reddish blonde hair. He wore a light purple long sleeve shirt with no tie, in what Ramsay could only assume was an attempt to make himself look less like a doctor. On a short harness in his hand, was a black Labrador retriever. Ramsay liked pit bulls or boxers more, but regardless, he fought the urge to fawn over the first dog he had seen in a year and a half.

“Ramsay, this is Dr. Beric Dondarrion.” Lucas said. Dondarrion saw where Ramsay’s eyes were and smiled at Ramsay’s reaction.

“The dog’s name is Ella.” Dondarrion told Ramsay. “I got her as a gift after I got my doctorate a few years ago, and put her through therapy dog training so I could use her in my private practice.” He explained to Ramsay. He dropped the harness and the dog wandered towards Ramsay and sniffed at his hand, and Ramsay put a hand on the dog’s head, and ruffled its fur. Dondarrion exchanged a glance with Lucas as the two watched Ramsay interact with the dog. Of course, Ramsay was not going to go completely crazy over the dog, but it was clear that seeing the dog broke something down in him. Lucas got up.

“Dr. Dondarrion. Ramsay. I’ll let you both start your session then.” Lucas told them and left the room. Dondarrion sat where Lucas had been and stretched out at the desk. He watched a little bit longer as Ramsay began playing with the dog, stopping just short of cooing at it. He wasn’t going to let the dog strip him of all his dignity. Though, he was currently a patient at a mental hospital, so there wasn’t much dignity that he had left in the first place.

“There are some toys over there in the corner.” Dondarrion told Ramsay and Ramsay got up from his chair. Ramsay looked around in the cleverly disguised box. He was a little disgruntled that he hadn’t figured out what was going to be going on sooner. He found a tennis ball and threw towards the opposite end of the room, and the dog dutifully trotted towards it, picked it up, and brought it back to Ramsay. “So, tell me about yourself Ramsay.”

“What do you need to know that you can’t find in the file?” Ramsay asked, biting back the urge to once again coo praises at the dog as he looked around for another toy for the dog to play with.

“I’d rather hear it from you. You ever hear the story of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ by Edgar Allen Poe?” Dondarrion asked.

“Yeah? What about it?” Ramsay asked as he stopped playing with the dog and looked at the man. He had rolled the desk chair from behind the desk and was now sitting directly across from Ramsay.

“The story is all in how the narrator delivers it. If you look at it from a third person perspective, or the perspective of the police that he brings into the flat, the story is boring. It’s the man’s narration that makes it such a good story.” Dondarrion said to Ramsay.

“You know I know what you’re trying to do right?” Ramsay told Dondarrion. “I studied psychology too.” Dondarrion smirked faintly and got on the floor, long legs stretched out in front of him. Through what must have been personal conditioning, Ella went over to her master and laid her head on his thigh. Dondarrion scratched the dog behind one ear. Ramsay remained where he was seated in the folding chair.

“Not helping the anti-social diagnosis here Ramsay.” Dondarrion commented wryly, and stroked Ella’s head slowly.

“Let me ask you something then…why are you here? Didn’t you say you had a private practice? Asking personal questions about a new person is considered socialization is it not?” Ramsay asked Dondarrion, who let out a chuckle and shrugged.

“I’m one of the only psychologists in King’s Landing who has a therapy dog. Who else are they going to call to work with you? Letting you play with my dog while I try to get you to tell me why you beat your wife and castrated and amputated Theon Greyjoy is one of the more interesting cases I’ve had since I graduated medical school.” Dondarrion replied.

“So that’s your aim, to write me up in some academic paper?” Ramsay asked Dondarrion and he shook his head.

“I just want to see why you do what you do. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Dondarrion replied.

“How’s that any different from the way I treated Sansa and Re- Theon?” Ramsay asked him. The temptation to call Theon Reek was always there, but since his imprisonment began, he never calls Theon Reek out loud. At least, he tries not to.

“It’s not.” Dondarrion told him. “Except for the fact that while I’m doing this, it isn’t going to hurt you the way it hurt them. In all honesty, it might even help you.” Ramsay only chuckled. In all twenty-eight years of his life, he had always been told that the various psychologists and psychiatrists could “help” him. It never worked. Perhaps his father had been right, it was some terrible cocktail of genetics that made him who he was, only made worse by a four-year psychology degree as well as another two years of studying animal behavior. On top of that, ever precocious as a child, Ramsay read quite a bit while not causing his father grief. He knew how a human AND animal mind worked. A rather potent combination really.

“I’ll believe it when you actually do something.” Ramsay replied and Dondarrion was still all calm. At this point, most of the psychologists he had seen previously would start showing signs of irritation, but not this Dondarrion.

“I think I already have.” Dondarrion replied. He moved his leg out from under where Ella’s head was resting, and the dog looked up at him, disappointed about her pillow moving. “Alright Ella. It’s time to go home. Say bye to Ramsay.” Dondarrion told his dog, and pointed at where Ramsay was. Ramsay could tell that Dondarrion was going to start training the dog to recognize Ramsay as a patient. The dog moved over to Ramsay and sniffed at his hand, and nudged at his fingers with a damp nose. Ramsay moved his hand to the dog’s head a quick pat. Once the dog felt like she had adequately said her farewells, she went back to Dondarrion’s side and the doctor picked up her harness.

“Well Ramsay, I’ll see you on Thursday.” Dondarrion told him as he left the room. Ramsay waited a little bit before he left the room, willing the feeling of nerves out of the pit of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I'm somewhat active on [tumblr](http://wynch.tumblr.com) again, so you should follow me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late chapter is late. Theon meets with Davos to discuss his options when it comes to moving back to Pyke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for me to update. I was finishing up college-- so I'm just gonna leave this here.

As far as parole officers go, Davos was probably the perfect one for Theon. Despite his own criminal record, Davos had saved the life of another Westerosi politician, Stannis Baratheon, and with Stannis vouching for him, he could join the police academy at Dragonstone. This was despite his past as a smuggler and thief. He was old, but fit for an old guy, and had a background in social work as well as his police training. Overall, he had a very fatherly aura about him, and that was what made him such a good parole officer. None of his boys wanted to disappoint him, to be looked at with that disapproving father glare, so he rarely had any issues. It was because of his checkered past, and the fact he could make such a positive impact after the fact, that he was the perfect person for Theon to consult.

The next morning after Theon’s meeting with Yara, he sent a text to Davos.

 _“Are you in your office today? I need to talk to you.”_ Theon wrote as he got out of bed. He began getting ready for the day and checked his phone once again after he got out of the shower.

 _“I am, but I have meetings. Can you come by at 12?”_ Davos replied.

 _“Sure.”_ Theon replied. He glanced at the corner of his screen. It was only about nine, and he didn’t have work today. He left his room and saw Sansa passed out in one of the living room chairs. Her book was still open, and the page in her notebook was mostly scribbling. Theon guessed that she must have fallen asleep while taking notes. As he headed to the kitchen, Arya wandered out of Sansa’s bedroom. She was fully dressed, and a brown knit cap covered her short hair. “Morning.” Theon greeted. “Breakfast?”

“I’m good.” Arya replied as she went to her backpack on the floor and proceeded to stuff her pajamas into the top. “I’m gonna be leaving to see our Mum today. Since I knew you guys lived outside of Kings’ Landing, I wanted to stop on my way into town. I was really tired when I first got in from Braavos.” Arya explained. Theon nodded as he started the coffee maker. “I’ll take some coffee though.” She added as an afterthought. Theon nodded and handed her a mug as he got out his own. “So what did you and your sister talk about last night?” Arya asked him. Theon shrugged.

“Stuff. She wants me to move back to Pyke. Go to school, and she even offered to pay for it.” Theon explained without further elaboration. Arya nodded. Judging from her and Sansa’s talk the night before, she wasn’t sure what to make of that news. She knew Sansa wouldn’t want to move, since she was already in school and already established with a job through the local school district.

“Nice. Are you going to go? But have you mentioned to Sansa about it yet?” Arya asked him, and the older man shrugged.

“Dunno yet. I still have a lot I need to consider before I do anything. I’m in a unique situation you know. And I did mention it to her last night. I’m hoping it didn’t distract her too much while she was studying last night.” Theon replied. He leaned back against the counter across from the coffee maker and folded his arms across his chest.

“Sansa’ll miss you if you go.” Arya told him.

“Yeah, I know.” Theon said, without mentioning anything else. They stood in silence as they waited for the coffee to finish brewing. “I feel like your family won’t though.” Theon said with a chuckle. Arya shrugged.

“They’ll get over it. It’s Sansa’s life, not their’s.” Arya replied. Theon smiled at Arya’s nonchalance. Arya looked out of the kitchen window. “I don’t like it still, but like I said, it’s none of my business what Sansa does with her life. Of course, I’ll be there for her no matter what happens.” Arya told him.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Theon replied.

“And, after what she told me last night, I’m willing to be there for you to—if need be…” Arya told him. Theon smiled at the younger girl’s tone. “You’re important to her, so I know for sure that she would want me to be there for you too.”

“Thanks Arya.”

\- - -

“So Yara wants you to come back to Pyke?” Davos asked Theon. After bidding farewell to Arya, Theon slowly made his way to Davos’ office. “To study law?” Theon nodded again. Davos was aware of Theon’s family ties, but obviously wasn’t certain about Yara’s motivations. Davos grimaced as he thought about the situation. “Is she still on the mainland?” Davos asked. Theon shrugged.

“I dunno.” Theon replied. “Do you want her contact information?” Davos nodded. Theon got out his phone and sent Davos his sister’s contact information. Davos’ phone buzzed at its place on his desk.

“Got it.” Davos replied and checked to make sure the message went through. “Let me contact her, and I’ll let you know what my decision is.” Theon nodded.

“I understand.” Theon replied.

“If it seems like she’s still wanting to do something illegal with you after you get your education, then I must not allow it.” Davos replied. “But—” his eyes softened as he continued his sentence. “—do you want to do it?” Theon shrugged, noncommittal.

“I dunno.” Theon repeated.

“I know you care deeply for Ms. Stark.” Davos told him. “But I also know that being in Kings’ Landing has been difficult for you too since the trial, and it’s important that you do what’s best for you to heal. I do have collogues on Pyke who can take over your case, but you must think this over. And in the meantime, I will contact your sister for more information about what her and your uncle have planned.”

“Thank you.” Theon told him. The older man smiled at his charge.

“Of course, you’ll keep in touch if you do move, won’t you?” Davos asked. Theon smiled.

“I’ll do my best.” Theon replied as he got up from his chair across from Davos. The two shook hands. “I’m afraid I don’t know too much about how long it would take for my sister to reply to emails or phone calls.” Davos shrugged as he followed Theon towards his office door.

“I don’t mind either way. If she really wants you to come back home, she’ll get back to me as quickly as she can.” Davos replied. “Take care Theon. I trust you don’t have work today?” Davos asked him. Theon shook his head. “Good. I’ll see you at our meeting next week. If I hear something from Yara sooner than that, I’ll be in touch.” Davos said. Theon turned around and was walking backward down the hallway as he was saying good bye. Not watching where he was going, Theon turned around just in time to bump face first into an older man’s chest.

The man wasn’t as old as Davos, considering he still had some bright red-gold hair, but signs of aging were still clear on his face. Theon looked up at the man and bobbed his head in an apology.

“My fault.” Theon replied as he walked down the hallway.

“S’okay.” The man replied as he watched Theon retreat down the hall. “Was that Theon Greyjoy?” the man asked Davos as he walked towards his office door across the hall from Davos’ office. The office was a temporary thing, courtesy of the Kings’ Landing Hospital’s ties to law enforcement, as well as Roose Bolton’s faith in Beric. Beric wasn’t totally lying when he said he was the only psychologists in Kings’ Landing with a therapy dog. He just neglected to mention that he had moved from the Riverlands a week ago. Specifically, to work on this case. While in a lot of ways, he was still new-ish to his profession, Beric was a genius where his discipline was concerned, and while Roose Bolton wasn’t fond of his son, he was even less fond of his son’s current predicament. However, Beric had refused to move to Kings’ Landing for the sake of one case (no matter how much money was offered), so Roose presented him with a psychologist/social worker job with the Department of Corrections.

Beric’s job was to evaluate paroles right after they left prison and/or are given only parole (as was the case with Theon) to evaluate their mental state, as well as to check on their mental health during their parole. Beric was being paid to take a special interest in cases that Davos didn’t need to get paid for (in fact, he was never asked to check in on Davos’ cases). Only the higher ups were aware of his part time job of counseling Ramsay.

“Yeah. I can’t say too much, but the boy is trying to leave the city, and was offered quite a bit to do so. He’s mulling over his options.” Davos explained as he leaned on his door frame and looked at Beric from across the hall.

“I see.” Beric mused. When he had started this position, he had never expected to face a potential conflict of interest with his extra-curricular cases. He had no idea that Theon’s case was being handled at this office, and he assumed that this had been an oversight on the part of Roose Bolton. Either way though, he knew he would be able to keep it discrete.


End file.
